Disclaimer: 'The Fantastic Four' is created by Stan Lee and is the property of Marvel Comics Group and its Affiliates and Associates. No infringement of copyright is implied.

This work of fiction follows very shortly after the events depicted in the July, 2005 movie.

The Fantastic Ben Grimm

By: JMK758

Chapter One

Mail Call at the Baxter Building

The many days following their unusual experiences aboard the VonDoom Space Station were filled with change and discovery for the four scientists dubbed by the media 'The Fantastic Four'. 'Elevated' to the status of 'superheroes' by their unusual abilities and the circumstances of life, they did not share one essential feature of their many costumed fellows. 'Outed' almost instantly by the media upon their first public appearance on a crowded bridge, before they had even considered the need to separate public from private lives, their names quickly became household ones throughout the city, then the country and finally the world.

Consequently, they had no 'private' life to call their own, no retreat from the public. Even the headquarters of Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan and Johnny Storm was well known; the Baxter Building in New York City.

Certainly no one was more aware of this than Willie Lumpkin, Letter Carrier for the USPS, whose route included said building. Up to the day the public was told who and where the Fantastic Four were, his mail for that building consisted of a handful of letters; mostly bills, most of them stamped 'Final Notice'.

Now in these days, there were no more 'Final Notice' stamps. Unfortunately, there were no more 'handfuls' either.

"Can you give me a hand?" Willie called after he had succeeded in dragging two overstuffed mailbags, each weighing a good 70 pounds, through the tightness of the revolving door. The object of his appeal, Jimmy O'Hoolihan, the building's doorman, looked at the bundles being slowly dragged through his lobby with a measure of dismay. He was not a day younger than Lumpkin, and was still nursing a sore back from his last encounter with the late, unlamented Victor VonDoom.

"Oh, Lord. Who are they kidding? No one runs up this many bills!"

"No bills here." Lumpkin said, straightening and trying to work the kinks out of his own back. He pulled three letters out of the back pocket of his uniform. "These are the bills. This," he indicated the two huge bags at his feet, "is fan mail."

"Whoooo." He whistled appreciatively, pressing the call button for the elevator. "Guess that's what happens when you come out and save the city two or three times."

"Tomorrow it's going to be a truck, or they can pay for my back brace." But there was no ire in Lumpkin's tone. He'd always liked Reed Richards. Even when the man was down and counted out, he'd never failed to have a kind word or a touch of good humor. Ben Grimm was great; he'd liked the irascible pilot whose bark had always seemed to hide an inner level of gentility few saw unless they looked properly; and the physical change in him hadn't done much to change him inside, not so Lumpkin could see. And the other two new residents, Johnny and Susan Storm, were okay sorts.

"Well, let's get you up there so you can get back to your beat." O'Hoolihan offered, bending to grab one of the ropes securing the canvas bag and dragging it to a waiting elevator.

"Things picking up for you too?"

The Doorman laughed. "I've politely invited more reporters to leave this week than I've seen in any one part of the city since Nine-Eleven." The doors closed on their banter, and the car lifted them to the Penthouse level.

When the doors opened again it was onto a long lobby, in the middle of which two of the aforementioned 'superheroes' were talking. They turned toward the car, the younger one calling out "Whoop-whoop-whoop. Mail's in!"

"You been watching too much 'Nick-at-Night'." The older said gruffly, his deep voice sounding like rocks sliding on a tin sheet.

"Nope, now it's 'TVLand'. Addam's Family's better now than it was then." His 'tormentor' replied with an ever-present grin.

Avoiding comment, the two gray haired men started to pull the two huge bags, but Johnny called out to them: "Don't strain yourselves, let the big guy do it." He slapped his hand on Grimm's massive shoulder as the colossal man turned to lumber down the hall.

"Hope that stung." He muttered just loud enough for Lumpkin and O'Hoolihan to hear. He bent down, taking both sets of ropes from the men and lifting the bags in one hand as another might lift a leaf.

"You two still feuding?" Lumpkin asked, trying to keep a trace of disappointment from his tone.

"Nahh, he's an okay guy I guess." The Thing admitted quietly. "He just needs to grow up – a couple of decades at least." The three shared a chuckle over the follies of youth.

xx

"Read 'em and weep." Ben said, tossing the two sacks onto the common room floor. "We told you to pay your bills, Reed."

"That's looking like less of a problem lately, Ben." Reed Richards retorted as Johnny Storm bounded enthusiastically for the bags he had not carried, but Grimm stopped him with a massive hand of orange 'rock' in his chest.

"Hold it, hot stuff. Beauty before Beast." He said with a glance at Susan, seated on the couch.

"Thank you, Ben." The lovely blonde woman said, standing up and approaching the bags. Ben pulled open one of the bags, reaching in with one huge hand and pulling out a thick bundle of envelopes. He looked at Susan with a grin.

"I didn't say 'Ladies First'."

Susan was taken aback for an instant, but then could not help grinning, seeing her brother's reaction as he interpreted the Thing's actual words. But then Ben handed her the bundle. "Enjoy." He turned away. "I'll be in my room."

Surprised, she called after him; "Don't you want your mail?"

"Nahh. Who'd write to me?"

xx

Ben Grimm entered his room, closing the door firmly behind him, symbolically shutting out the world. For a moment he looked about the small room. It was homey, in a homely sort of way. It was not his apartment, but it did have some of his furniture, retrieved from Yancy Street a few days after he'd abandoned it when the 'Dear Ben' letter had come. She didn't want to see him ever again, and it was one more thing he had to try to accept in his new life. It had hurt worse than the change in him that had made him the 'Thing'.

The bed was not his; it was comfortable but was still a steel frame with reinforced steel bracings. The chair, in his size at least, was also designed to support a bulk that massed nearly 2,000 lbs. The telephone on his night table was a 'hands free' one with the biggest buttons available – thank God for novelty design. It was 'hands free' because he had crushed the last two; the first in thoughtlessness, the second in a fit of rage.

This was what his life consisted of now; steel and reinforced furnishings, hand-me-downs from his own former life and a solitude of his own making. But in all his regrets, he could not regret one thing: This life had led him to Alicia Masters.

The young woman had been blind for years and consequently could not see him for the monstrosity he was, someone who could not walk the streets without people recoiling. She had never seen him. She could 'see' him with her hands; enough to get an idea what he looked like; a huge stack of rock that moved like a man. But she did not care. She had never cared. From the first night they'd met, she had taken a liking to Ben Grimm, and did not care a whit for the body that contained him.

Before he could change his mind, before he could sink into a melancholy of mail for others and reinforced furniture for him, he started pressing buttons on the telephone, gently, extremely gently.

The cell phone was answered on the third ring. "Hi, Ben." Grimm's eyes widened. If he'd had eyebrows they would have crept over his head.

"You can't have 'Caller-ID' on that thing." He exclaimed. How would she read it?

"Don't need it; your phone has its own ring tone." He was pleasantly surprised; they'd know each other for so short a time, and were just at the 'getting to know you' stage in their budding friendship. It was a touching thought that she'd think of him enough to do this.

He firmly refused to think of the obvious, that it was a logical extension of what she'd logically do for everyone. 'Logically' was for Richards; it only served to get in Grimm's way. "I was … well …" 'Come on, Ben, bite the bullet.' he thought. 'You called her!' "I, er, was wondering if you … well, would like to go out … or something?"

'Blast it.' He thought. 'This dating thing is bad enough on its own, without…'

"Take me to a movie?" Alicia's voice asked hopefully from the speaker.

"A movie?" How many times could she surprise him?

"I like them better since I don't have to watch the 'acting'."

He laughed. "Sure. Movie it is. I'll –." He was about to say 'see you'. "I'll be there in half an hour."

"I'll be ready." He reached to turn off the phone, but she was still on the line. "Ben?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you want to know your ring tone?" He could almost hear her grin. He shrugged, not having even thought about it.

"I guess."

"'Wild Man in Bed'." The phone clicked off, leaving Ben standing still, his mouth very slowly falling open.

x

Covered now in his long overcoat and hat, he went past the common room, seeing his friends deeply engrossed in their respective stacks of mail. For all the respectable volume of missives piled high in three stacks on the table before them, only the first bag of mail was even partially dug into. No one looked up as he passed as quietly as a one ton body could pass, and he did not call the attention of any of them. Let them have their mail. He had a real life at the movies, he thought with an ironic grin.